Surreptitious Entry
by ninepen
Summary: Loki lets himself into an apartment. What will he find? What else has he let himself into? And if offered the opportunity, is he ready for something else?
1. Lying Low

_**Surreptitious Entry**_

**Chapter One: Lying Low**

Loki came to the door, glancing around to make sure no one else had entered the corridor; he was alone.

He slipped his hand behind the painted wooden "welcome" sign hanging on the door – letters in white springing from an explosion of pansies in shades of purple and pink and yellow – and found what he was looking for. A little pocket of some softer material, and inside it, a key.

Another glance, though he knew he hadn't heard anyone enter. Still alone.

He inserted the key in its slot, turned it, heard the click, turned the doorknob, stepped inside.

His body shimmered in green and gold until he looked himself again, in one of the comfortable leather and green cloth ensembles he'd commonly worn in Asgard, though absent any of the symbolic markings of the royal family.

The interior was relatively tidy – he'd seen worse – just a few books and papers atop the sparse furniture of the small living room, a cup of half-drunk tea on a low table in front of the sofa whose woven brown fabric had worn through in a few places. A desk that was as wide as the sofa stood against the other wall; Loki didn't know what it was made of, but it clearly wasn't made of the wood it appeared to be, since the "wood" was peeling off of it. A laptop sat closed on the otherwise bare surface of the desk, while pinned to the fabric-covered back of the desk, below a couple of shelves lined with more books, were numerous images of less-than-artistic quality, some of them familiar.

A relatively small flat-screen television and a DVD player sat on the top shelf of a waist-high scuffed bookcase painted pale blue.

He left the bag he'd been holding by the desk. There was no need to carry it around the apartment.

He ducked his head into the bathroom on the right. It was small, like everything else here, barely room to stand once the door was opened into it. Baskets hanging on the wall overflowed with cosmetics and nail polish and other things he had no interest in. He moved on.

At the back of the living room was a window, and on the left a kitchen that barely qualified for the name; Loki had spent enough time on Midgard by now to know what a typical American kitchen looked like. This one had a refrigerator sized for the smallest race of Nidavellir dwarves – if they had small appetites – and a stovetop with just two burners. Dishes were stacked in a rack on the countertop and a few pots and pans hung from under the one cabinet on the wall. The "kitchen" was more of an alcove than a separate room, and opened directly to the back of the living room, where a small round table with more of that peeling false wood was set up with two matching chairs and two others that matched neither the table nor each other.

_How do they live like this?_ he wondered. But he'd also spent enough time on Midgard to know that plenty of people lived with far less, and many of them somehow managed to still be happy.

Across from the kitchen alcove a door opened to the bedroom, the only other room in the apartment. The door was open; he entered.

Two narrow beds sat on opposite sides of the room, one of a pale wood that didn't appear to be peeling, the other with a simple metal structure. Mismatched dressers framed a window above a small table and stool on a third wall, and on the fourth was a closet, long but shallow, he could see from the open door. He stepped further in. The pale wood bed had deep green covers – he smiled at that – and above the headboard were black-and-white checkered painted wooden letters spelling out "Emily." The other bed was not similarly labeled, but a stack of mail on top of its pink covers was all addressed to a Selina Rylon. A small stuffed bear clothed in pink and white lace sat next to this bed's pillow.

He turned back to the bed with the green covers. Emily's bed. The headboard was not a simple thin piece of wood, but had a shallow shelf built into it like a small covered bookcase. The shelf and the top ledge were covered in various items. Loki sat on the bed to look at them more closely. A clock with glowing red numbers – 10:48. A figurine of a dancer perched on the toes of one foot. A box of tissues. A book with a piece of paper sticking out of it, marking the place – _The Psychology of Torture_. Loki grimaced. Another book beneath that one – _A History of Conspiracy._

_Is this what young Midgardian women read at night?_ he wondered in genuine confusion. He would have expected a romance, something to transport the reader away from studies and work and tiny apartments to a world of passion and fantasy far better than the insecurities and pain and rejection of real relationships. He frowned, realizing he might possibly be projecting his own experience. After all, Thor seemed happy with his mortal, the Iron Man had actually settled down with someone despite the previous average length of his romantic relationships being somewhere around four hours from what he'd gathered, and one of the agents inside SHIELD who reported to him told him she'd heard rumors that the soldier was involved with someone and even the green beast had fallen in love with a teacher who somehow loved him back despite what lived underneath his skin. She knew the truth about him, this woman who taught six-year-olds. Loki had asked.

For him there was no one. Not a woman who loved him, not a friend who truly liked him. He had _associates_. Those who sometimes worked with him, or he with them, for some particular goal. He wouldn't trust any of them enough to turn his back on them. He had a "brother" who regarded him warily, and with whom there was a tacit agreement that neither would try to harm the other (_capture_, of course, was not the same as _harm_), and that was the extent of it. He had two "fathers" both long gone, both in their own way. He had a "mother" who…

Loki swallowed thickly and began absently scanning the objects Emily had collected on top of her headboard bookcase.

He was tired, and not just from the travel required to get him up here to New York City's Brooklyn. For several years now he'd been spreading chaos across as many realms as he could manage, moving on when the opposition grew serious or when he simply grew bored. Midgard was without a doubt his favorite place for a little of what he called fun and the humans called various other things. There was something endlessly entertaining in toying with these short-lived fragile mortals who thought themselves on par with a god. Provoking Thor also never grew tiresome – each time he returned to torment Midgard, Thor felt obliged to help stop him as he still considered this realm under his protection. He was an absentee protector, though, for Thor had been forced to finally take the throne once Loki's secret victory had grown so dull that he'd begun sabotaging it himself. It had been sheer ecstasy at first, the extent of his power the greatest elixir he'd ever known, but it soon began to lose its appeal, for what fun was a victory such as that when no one knew you'd won it? In just over a year suspicions had reached the tipping point and Loki had been found out. He'd feigned anger and various other reactions that seemed more appropriate than the relief he really felt when he was finally able to stand in his own taller, trimmer, _younger_ body. When he no longer had to see Odin's face every time he passed by a mirror.

Loki looked down at the two pillows at the head of the bed, to his left, covered in linens of a golden tan color. He lifted the top pillow to his face. It was soft. It smelled of pomegranate. He put the pillow back, then bent over and tugged his boots off, flexing his feet and wiggling his toes before he even quite realized he'd done it. He _was_ tired though. He'd traveled by bus and then train and then subway and then walked. It would feel so good to put his feet up for a while. He swung his legs up onto the bed and straightened out, letting his head rest on the pillow. He breathed in deeply, drawing in the pleasant pomegranate scent.

He'd been lying low in St. Augustine, Florida, for a few months now. He liked it there, more or less, this town with its picturesque beaches and quaint little fort, this town that considered itself "historic." In this country, if not precisely the rest of Midgard, he supposed it was, but Loki had been around five hundred years old already when it was founded. It was a new experience for him, really, the concept of "lying low," at least as a grown man. Formally he'd learned it from his "associates," though instinctively he'd understood it even in his younger years, any time he'd run afoul of Odin.

He was gaining this new experience because, while it was amusing to constantly force Thor to leave Asgard to come protect Midgard from his wicked little Frost Giant brother, Thor of course found it considerably less amusing, and had recently begun to find it even less so. Three months ago Thor had let him know it in terms so clear it came close to violating their "understanding." As it turned out, Jane was pregnant with their first child, and was not pleased with Thor's absences, and had been letting _him_ know it in no less certain terms. The mighty Thor, never conquered by sword or fist, now conquered by a tiny mortal woman at least a foot shorter than him. A tiny mortal woman in whose womb grew the next heir to Asgard's throne.

It had infuriated him. And stung him with a thousand needles. And he'd mocked Thor for a solid hour to mask it.

But then he'd lain low.

It hadn't been so bad. Everyone needed a break. He'd just needed to find other things to occupy his time while Jane incubated Thor's perfect little offspring.

And find them he had.

A smile spread across his face, and a hand ran up in between the two pillows as he turned on his side. It was still early. There was time to rest. When someone came to the door of the apartment, he'd hear it, and wake.

/

* * *

_Dear readers who've read other stuff I've written on here...this is a wee bit different. It's meant to follow TDW (an unspecified number of years later, not too many), but let's just say I didn't spend weeks agonizing over all that. I had a dream, a couple of images really, and wrote a bunch of words to give it life. And hopefully someone else will have some fun with it now besides just me. I guess it could go either in the Thor fandom or the Avengers fandom; I chose Avengers this time just to be different. This isn't really meant to be a totally canon-compliant Loki, really...I'll reiterate - it's from a dream! ;-) And it was fun to do something different._

_Comments welcome - I always respond to reviews if the option is there to do so._


	2. Infiltration

_**Surreptitious Entry**_

**Chapter Two: Infiltration**

A knock sounded at a door somewhere and Loki woke, lurching upright, uncertain where he was. "Ah," he muttered aloud as it came back to him. Emily's bedchamber. Sweet, trusting, enthusiastic, fiery, young Emily. He didn't know her last name; she'd never revealed it. She didn't know his real name at all. The roommate – Selina, he remembered – would not be home this weekend.

He heard another knock as he smoothed out the bedcovers. He hurried out to the door, running his hands through the hair he'd lightened to a short sandy blond then plucking a pair of black-rimmed narrow frame glasses from the air and putting them in place. A quick glance down at his clothing as it reverted to what he'd physically put on this morning – casual black slacks and a long-sleeved black T-shirt with "Kaisers Orchestra" written over a logo of the Norwegian band – helped remind him who he was here today.

"Hi, uhhh…Kaisers Orchestra!" the short curly-haired brunette young woman at the door exclaimed, getting over her surprise at the stranger who opened the door. "I love them!"

"They're really cool," Loki agreed with a grin. "I'm glad to meet a fellow fan. You must be here for Emily's event?"

"Emily? Yeah…that's so weird. I'll always think of her as 'Loki Lover,'" said the woman in blue jeans and a filmy white shirt.

"So will I," he said with a laugh, his heart leaping a little at hearing that moniker said aloud. He'd said it aloud enough times himself – it rarely failed to give him a laugh or at least a little burst of warmth to melt some of the frost that encased his heart. "Please come in. 'Loki Lover' isn't home yet. I was arriving from rather far away and she was kind enough to allow me to come over early. She should be here in" – he checked the black-face TAG Heuer watch he'd taken to wearing – "about half an hour."

The girl followed him in, and he held out his hand in the method of the Midgardians of this part of the realm. "Martin Rendahl. Also known as 'SHIELD Is Evil.'"

"'SHIELD Is Evil!' Oh my God I'm so excited to meet you! I never thought you'd be so…you know…tall," she said, suddenly embarrassed; Loki gave her an easy smile as if he had no idea what she was really thinking. "I'm 'Old Norse Fan.' Known in the face-to-face world as Veronica Tandy."

"Ah, yes. The Scandinavian Studies student. I've very much enjoyed your insights from Norse mythology. Truly enlightening. I'm pleased to meet you as well."

"So, Martin Rendahl, huh? Is it Norwegian, by any chance?"

"It is!" Loki exclaimed. "How did you know? Well, of course you would." He'd chosen it specifically for this. He had other aliases for other activities.

"Nah, lucky guess. It could be from other places as well," Veronica said with a bit of a blush. "So are you Norwegian?"

"Originally, yes. But I've lived all over. Currently I call Atlanta home." There was, after all, no need to be entirely honest here. "And you?"

"I grew up all over, too. My dad was in the Army. Now I'm at Yale."

"You had a journey to come here then as well, did you not?"

"Oh, no, not much of one, it's not that far. Not compared to your trip," Veronica said, and they continued chatting, settling down on the worn brown sofa.

The reason for their presence here, though, never came up, by unspoken mutual agreement. That would come later. Loki was eager for it, and at the same time – though he would never admit it to anyone – rather nervous. Infiltration was hardly a new concept for him. Infiltration of _this_ sort though…this was new indeed.

The sound of a key fumbling in a lock interrupted Veronica's story of joining other children from her school in performing a song called "We Are the World" – rather a presumptuous-sounding title, Loki thought – for German children at a school in Kaiserslautern. Kaiserslautern, as far as Loki could tell, had nothing to do with Kaisers Orchestra, whose music was in fact not so bad. He would have to look up this location later; Loki always did his homework.

Both he and Veronica were standing by the time the door opened and a plump curvy young woman with red-tinged blond hair stepped through, arms laden with thin plastic bags, keys dangling from a hand. "Oh, you made it! Martin? And…?"

"Yes," Loki said quickly, stepping forward to take some of the bags that were digging into the woman's fingers and wrists. "Martin Rendahl."

"Veronica Tandy. 'Old Norse Fan,'" the brunette said, taking the rest of the bags.

"Oh, Old Norse Fan, I'm so glad you could make it. And you, Mr. Shield is Evil. Emily Mack," she said, sticking out her hand.

"'Loki Lover,'" Loki said with a smile hinting of mischief. He switched the plastic bags to his left hand and took hers gently, as sensuously as he dared, brushing the knuckles lightly with his thumb where he would have instead brushed his lips had he not been in disguise. He'd had an effect on her, he knew – her eyes lingered a little longer on his than one might have expected, given the fact that her hand was now in Veronica's.

"So, you guys want to help me set up? Everyone else should be getting here soon. Your, ah, your trip was okay, Martin? You didn't have any trouble finding the place?"

"No problems at all. Your instructions were perfect," he said with a warm smile. It had been far easier than she could imagine. He might be living in St. Augustine now, but he'd become very familiar with New York City over the last few years.

Ten minutes later the snacks Loki had brought – salted nuts and Chex Mix, which he'd grown rather fond of – along with those Emily had were set out, and Akari "Make Love Not War" (Loki really didn't see why, in principle, it couldn't be both) arrived. She was a short brunette, and dressed entirely in black leather, something Loki had not seen terribly often on Midgard. Ten minutes after that it was Gina "Rainbow Sprite," who walked with an odd hitch to her gait, and five minutes after that it was Tanner "Viking Vagrant" with the spiky black hair and a leather and metal choker around his neck – one place where leather was _not_ worn on Asgard – and then it was dark-skinned long-legged long-skirted Briona "Sky Dancer," and before long there were thirty-four people crowded into Emily's living room, most in their twenties but ranging in age from late teens to early fifties, most of them on the floor. Loki sat on the end of the two-seater couch with four other people. It was a bit of an invasion of the personal space he preferred to keep around him, but these circumstances should be safer than most. If anyone had snuck a weapon in here (other than him, of course) it was well-hidden, and if anyone was a plant from SHIELD he or she was masking it expertly. SHIELD did, of course, have such experts – an image of Natasha Romanov came to mind – but Emily had also taken great care with whom she chose to invite to this gathering. Loki had done his homework here as well, carefully reading each person's contributions for hints to true identity, and paying close attention to everything each person said this afternoon to ensure that it matched. So far, everyone seemed genuine. It was little short of thrilling.

"_Love_ your shirt, by the way," Garnet "Blindfolded Masses" leaned down to whisper in his ear from where she perched on the arm of the sofa, pressing in close to him.

"Thanks," Loki said, angling his head up and giving her a warm smile. He didn't mind the closeness. He now knew for certain she had no weapon on her left side.

"Okay, okay, I think probably everybody's here now. 'Don't Believe The Lie' called and said he had an emergency and he couldn't make it," Emily said, standing up in the middle of the room on the other side of the weathered coffee table, now covered with drinks and cups and bowls of popcorn and pretzels and nuts and Chex Mix and some kind of colored sticky sweet things shaped vaguely like worms that Loki could have happily lived his life without ever sampling. Sounds of disappointment came up from around the room; Loki joined them. "Don't Believe The Lie" was a dogged researcher who occasionally came up with tidbits of information that even Loki had not managed to obtain. "Yeah, I know, I know. He apologized, but stuff happens, guys. Anyway, how about we get this thing officially started?"

Loki watched Emily as the group called out their assent. She held herself with sufficient confidence and strength that Loki could imagine her in Asgardian garb, though in fact she simply wore jeans and a light blue T-shirt with the Columbia University logo on it. She was a student there in the Master of International Affairs program, though in her free time she may as well have been pursuing a Master of Interrealm Affairs degree.

"All right then. Right off the bat, I want to go ahead and say it, out loud, with my real name attached to it, Emily Mack. I want to say why we're all here today. Why we all gravitated to each other and formed an online community. First: We don't trust SHIELD. They spoon-feed us what they think we ought to know, and half of that is a lie."

"Ninety percent," Garnet stuck in.

Emily nodded, but wisely did not comment. Loki had gone out to meet an associate one day after someone had posted "How much of what SHIELD lets leak to the media do you think is true?", and when he'd come back there were six hundred and eighty four responses debating percentages and intent and the role of the media and the extent of the Avengers' involvement in the deception. The latter, Loki had thought was ridiculous. Thor couldn't have lied to the media without tripping over every other word, the Captain was too upstanding to tell bald-faced lies to his own countrymen, the green beast's human form tended to flee to remote undeveloped villages when the media tracked him down, the Black Widow faded into the shadows the instant a camera appeared, Hawkeye had developed a bit of a chip on his shoulder and had once shot an arrow into one of those larger cameras, and Tony Stark…Loki had seen the YouTube video of him gleefully announcing his own biggest secret to the entire world through the media, against all instructions, according to what Loki had heard. He was used to living his life in public, in the open, and Loki couldn't see the man serving as SHIELD's lapdog in covering up truths he'd only be too glad to proclaim.

"Second: The Avengers, although we know they've protected us in some ways, they have become a narrative construct, a monolith we're meant to put our trust and faith in, and that construct was created by SHIELD. Therefore, _as a construct_, we don't trust the Avengers, either."

"Third: We believe that the existence of the Avengers construct has put us all at greater risk. They're seen as a challenge to groups and individuals with malevolent intent, and they therefore draw those groups and individuals to us and _encourage_ them to attack. And when the Avengers respond, they do just as much damage as the attackers."

"The Hulk destroyed my brother's office."

"Iron Man burned holes through my apartment and all my furniture and stuff."

"My whole neighborhood flooded after Thor destroyed the water main from all that pounding with his hammer."

Loki winced at that one. It hadn't been _entirely_ Thor's fault; Loki had essentially manipulated him into destroying the water main. If Thor electrocuted himself with his own lighting from standing in a giant puddle, he could hardly accuse Loki of violating their agreement.

"Fourth: We want to spread the word," Emily continued. "We refuse to stand idly by and make ourselves complicit in the lies. But we can't move until we know enough to formulate our own counter-narrative – when we release what we know, we want it to be big enough to put a permanent end to SHIELD's chokehold on the free flow of information."

There was clapping, and a few enthusiastic "yeahs." Loki sat in awe. If he couldn't rule Midgard, he would vote for Emily Mack to do so. Or perhaps marry "Loki Lover" and have her rule at his side. She was even more of a phenomenon in person than she was online. He wondered if this was how Midgard's near-daily revolutions and government overthrows started.

Emily sat down and turned the floor over to Garnet, who reached down to place a hand rather high up on his thigh to help push herself up. It was terribly presumptuous of her, but he was in a good mood and couldn't say that he minded.

Garnet spoke even more passionately, but with considerably less polish. Others followed, but for Loki it began to grow dull; much of what they were saying was the same rhetoric they used on their encrypted discussion forum. "I hate SHIELD, blah blah blah blah blah." Loki was soon distracted with the unexpected realization that he truly was growing bored. Bored of idly hating SHIELD. Pointlessly fighting the Avengers. Not that he now _liked_ SHIELD, or wanted to go out for a round of golf or a night of carousing with the Avengers. Just that it wasn't quite as satisfying…fulfilling…as it used to be.

"The question is, when are we going to _act_?!" Emily said, slamming her hand down on the coffee table and startling Loki from his thoughts. "We've gathered a lot of evidence over the last few years. We _know_ SHIELD isn't being honest with us. Our numbers keep growing, and we have vetted members in 38 countries now. Gathering information is good, and we need to keep it up, but when are we going to take the next step?"

"We have to be careful," Gina "Rainbow Sprite" said. "If SHIELD realizes how much stuff we've got on them, they'll come after us. They'll shut us down."

"Or worse," Loki added. SHIELD was far more ruthless than most of them knew. The world did not know that the organization – or the shadowy council behind it, Loki didn't bother distinguishing between the two – had tried to drop a nuclear bomb on Manhattan. And though he shared some of the information he gained with this group, he didn't share all of it, including this little tidbit, which he was holding onto for a rainy day. If the group moved toward taking some sort of real action against SHIELD, that might just be rainy enough to make him "discover" SHIELD's intention during the Chitauri attack.

"Or worse," Emily said, nodding at Loki. "But the right thing and the safe, easy thing don't always coincide."

"I think we should try contacting Loki again," Briona "Sky Dancer" said. "He was last seen in Paris."

The suggestion received murmured mixed reactions. "That didn't go so well last time," Tanner "Viking Vagrant" said. Many heads nodded; nearly all eyes turned to Emily.

Nearly half a year ago the group had begun making a concerted effort to target him, he now knew, focusing on New York since many of its members lived in the area and Loki had been seen there several times. A couple of months ago, when Loki heard his name called and saw someone running toward him, almost upon him, he'd lashed out, sending the figure flying back before he realized that his "attacker" had no special abilities and was armed with nothing more than a piece of paper which she'd held out to him with a sprained wrist and wheezing breaths as he approached out of curiosity. He'd felt bad for hurting a woman who hadn't meant any harm, and being in a generous mood for some reason, after tucking the paper in his coat he'd healed her cracked ribs and was starting on her wrist when Iron Man showed up and he had to attend to other matters.

The "attacker" was Emily, and the sheet of paper was an invitation to meet with their group. Loki hadn't met with them – not until now – but he'd joined them not long after that, as Martin Rendahl, or rather, "Shield Is Evil."

"Maybe not, but he took the flier. It's something."

"We've never heard from him. It didn't get us anywhere," another member, Michael, said.

"We don't know that," Veronica said. "It could have planted an idea. Maybe we just need to contact him again. There _has _to be more to his story. I mean, come on, we all know mythology isn't the same as history, and even more so a mythology recorded on Earth isn't a history of another planet. But the Loki in mythology is _nothing_ like the irredeemable evil incarnate Loki we're told tried to take over New York."

_The world, my dear. I tried to take over this entire world. My plans have always been ambitious._ Loki frowned. Until recently, when his plans had faded from little more than pranks to annoy SHIELD and its Avengers to strolling along Ponte Vedra Beach and trying his hand at golf.

"I still say we should try again," Briona said. "If we want to go after SHIELD, Loki probably has just the information we need. He could help us do it."

Michael shook his head. "Look, I know some of you guys – and by guys I mean girls – you think Loki's just some misunderstood kid who would fight for truth and justice and get the world out from under SHIELD's yoke if he just had a hug, but you can't deny he's killed people."

"That's low, Michael," Garnet said.

_Yes, Michael. Low. Who asked you? Who even let you into this group? It couldn't have been "Loki Lover."_

"Nobody's denying that," Veronica said. "But that was then, and this is now. _You_ can't deny that SHIELD cast him in the lead villain role, when we know there were others involved. Remember, SHIELD is nothing but a big propaganda machine with a bunch of big guns. And nothing Loki's done since has caused anywhere near that much damage. Half the time the Avengers cause more damage than him. Think of it this way. If he's mad at SHIELD, and he must be, what if we can give him another…like another way to channel his energy? Something more positive, but that will still give him something he wants, or at least something we think he wants. He can join us and go after them with words and with information, instead of weapons and violence. Isn't that a win-win?"

"Make love, not war," Akari "Make Love Not War" said with a grin and a snappy nod.

Discussion buzzed around the room, and Loki found himself considering Veronica's words. There _was_ a certain logic in them. A certain appeal, too. He'd already agreed not to try to harm Thor (much), and now he'd agreed not to initiate any attacks on Midgard until after Jane gave birth. By _attacks_, surely it was understood that he would not engage in violence, that he would not do something that would require Thor to abandon his pregnant wife to swing his hammer around and stop what Loki started. An attack on SHIELD with _information_…that was another thing entirely. What would Thor have to do with that? Still, it wasn't _Thor_ who'd entreated him to cease his activities, not ultimately – it was Jane. And she would probably be perturbed by him going after SHIELD in this other way as well. Even after the baby she could whine about nursing, or insufficient sleep, or a whining toddler, or an impressionable child…it conceivably could go on until the child turned twenty. By which point there would probably be another child or two. Loki rejected this entire line of thought. What she wanted had nothing to do with him. Thor might be Jane's whipping boy, but Loki was not.

That settled, Loki focused on the conversation around him again, in time for an argument about colors, for some strange reason.

"They're blue, I'm telling you."

"Did you not _see_ that picture I posted? They're green."

"Who cares what color Loki's eyes are? Can we get back to the point?"

Loki wrinkled his brow. _They're arguing about my eyes? What difference does it make?_ His eyes were basically blue, but depending on the light, or what he was wearing, they could appear different shades, including green. It hardly mattered, though, it wasn't like either was his true eye color.

"Speaking of pictures, look at these," Emily said, handing off her laptop. She'd stepped away for a moment after her phone dinged. "'Don't Believe The Lie' just sent them. To make up for missing the meeting, he said."

"Wow," Tanner said, followed by other exclamations and epithets as the laptop was passed around.

Loki couldn't hold back his grimace when it came to him. There were three photos, each from Paris, the last time he'd encountered the Avengers. Two photos showed him twirling Captain America's shield – it really was an obnoxious-looking thing – and the third was a blurry shot of him holding the same shield over his and Thor's heads when a wall he'd thrown Thor into started to collapse on him. As soon as he'd realized what he was doing, he'd shoved Thor away and thrown the shield hard at Hawkeye, who'd simply evaded it and tossed it back down to Captain America.

"'Don't Believe The Lie' says this confirms for him that Thor and Loki are really brothers."

"They weren't brothers in mythology, but that might not mean anything," Veronica said.

_Or it might._

"If they're brothers and they're having some kind of détente, how come Loki didn't get to go to his own brother's wedding? Remember, I talked to the photographer. Loki wasn't there," Gina "Rainbow Sprite" said.

_Of course I was there. I was invisible and entirely lacking an invitation, but I _was_ there. Did the photographer tell you about the three glasses of champagne Thor managed to spill on himself? I was at the one on Asgard, too. Not so invisible anymore, not after Thor finally figured it out when he started inexplicably spilling mead on himself, too._ They may not really be brothers, but there was still no one Loki took greater delight in tormenting.

"If you want to try to contact Loki again, I might know a safer way to do it," Tanner "Viking Vagrant" said.

"Yeah? Well, don't keep it to yourself, dude, spill," Garnet "Blindfolded Masses" said.

"I was doing some trolling online, and I came across this alternative physics group. Total nerds. I don't mean that as an insult. Anyway, on their board they were talking about rumors that Jane Foster would be a keynote speaker at a physics conference that's about a month from now at MIT. If she really does go, then one of us can go to the conference and get a note to her."

"That's a _great_ find, Tanner, thanks. I'd be willing to give that a try. But I don't know if she ever even sees Loki. Even if he and Thor _are _brothers," Emily said.

"He wasn't at the wedding," Gina reminded them again.

_Yes, I was!_

"Well, she would probably tell Thor, and Thor would probably have some way to contact Loki…maybe," a blond named Rachel said.

"SHIELD provides security for Jane Foster on the rare occasions that she makes public appearances and Thor isn't there," Loki put in. "If you want to do this, whoever goes will probably have to pass a security check, and anyone who approaches her will have to know enough about physics to be able to participate without drawing attention. I happen to have a degree in physics, as some of you may recall, and I'd be happy to volunteer to attend the conference." And he would be happy indeed. It would give him an opportunity for some mischief, to toy with Jane, and he couldn't deny – to himself, at least – that he was curious to see what Jane looked like, as she began to plump out with Thor's child. She was so tiny he wouldn't be surprised if she wound up confined to bed soon. He would take a tongue-lashing – and quite possibly a pummeling – for it from Thor later, but that was all right, he was quite used to that.

"Martin, that would be awesome," Emily said, and Loki beamed at her. "Okay, all in favor of another attempt to reach out to Loki, raise your hand."

Loki grinned and raised his hand, along with all but two of the others in the room. It wasn't exactly what these people would have described as "democratic," for their membership was much larger than the people in this room, but far be it for Loki to point out the questionable legitimacy of the vote.

"The ayes have it. I'll work up a mock letter or something, and post it up for comment, and get to it to you in time for the conference, Martin. You should go ahead and register for it now before it gets booked."

Loki nodded, and felt a thrill of excitement race up his spine. This, oddly enough, could be the most interesting thing he'd done for some time now. A clandestine meeting, in disguise, with Jane, during which he would ask her some question about the Foster Theory and then ask her something along the lines of, "and by the way, how is my little niece or nephew doing?" He couldn't wait to see the expression on her face. He grimaced then. What if she went into some kind of panic, thinking he was there to harm her or her half-breed progeny? What if that in turn _did_ harm her or the baby? That wouldn't do at all. Much as he enjoyed mocking her to Thor, she wasn't so bad, really. She'd stood up admirably to those Asgardians who'd seemed less than thrilled that of all the worthy Aesir women Thor could have brought home, he'd brought home some fragile little mortal instead. When Odin had shown up for the wedding and spoken to her with surface politeness and a tone that did not even attempt to hide his true feelings, she'd delivered him a five-minute lecture on how much she loved Thor, and respected him and his family and his realm and his traditions, and how Thor felt the same about her, and how she expected to be treated with no less respect by his family, regardless of what realm she came from and who her family was or wasn't.

And Odin had apologized.

Odin Borrson, All-Father, (former) king of Asgard and protector of the Nine Realms…had apologized. And treated her with the utmost respect afterward. It made him hate Jane in an altogether new way, but it made him admire her, too.

In any event, even at the peak of his rage – he had come to realize with some surprise, not so long ago, that it was in fact now _past_ its peak – hurting innocent women and children, even Midgardian ones, had never been among his intentions…Jotun women and children though, he supposed, he still wouldn't lose much – any, really – sleep over. Certainly not if done from a distance. He still regretted his failure to completely destroy Jotunheim. He occasionally thought about how he might attempt it a second time…but even that was fading.

So, he thought, as the discussion continued around him, he would go see Jane at this conference next month, but instead of toying with her and trying to frighten her, he would reassure her that he meant no harm, that he simply wanted to see how she was doing and reiterate that he was abiding by his agreement with Thor and would continue to do so. Then he would have to work in something about what a hen-pecked weakling she'd turned her husband into; there had to be _some_ fun in it for him, after all.

And then he would reveal himself to this group, somehow. He frowned. Who knew how long it would be before they gathered in person again? This was the first time in some seven months that they had done so.

"Martin? Are you comfortable with that?"

Loki's eyes jumped up to Emily's. Loki Lover's. He tried to recover what they'd been saying while he'd been lost in thought. Something about using his real name to register for the conference, and thus putting SHIELD on his tail if Jane reported his actions to them. _Not exactly a problem, _he thought. _They can hunt down Martin Rendahl all they like._

"If you aren't, just say so. We'll figure out another way to get you in, or somebody else, without using real names."

"I'm perfectly comfortable with it," he said, and the group started talking about backup plans, since it was only a rumor in the first place that Jane would be at the physics conference.

He tried to pay more attention, but his thoughts remained deeply divided. He could reveal himself at some unknown point in the future, lying low and growing so bored that he tried out everything from surfing to bowling (though he would never, _ever_ put his feet into shoes worn by 5,000 other people before him).

Or, he supposed, he could do it right now.

/

* * *

_Not what you expected, I'm guessing? Hope you enjoyed it! One more little chapter to go._


	3. Enlistment

_**Surreptitious Entry**_

**Chapter Three: Enlistment**

Loki felt a sudden pressure on his right arm – Garnet pushing away from him. A few other people started to look at him with strange expressions. He'd let his hair revert to its (sort of) natural black. He made a small motion with his right hand and the glasses disappeared from his face; Garnet made some odd little sound along with a gasp and fell off the arm of the couch.

Emily finally turned his way; her eyes widened. She'd seen him before up close, in person. Dressed rather differently, but still, she of everyone else here knew exactly who she was looking at, even if she couldn't yet quite believe it. "Martin…?"

"That's not my real name," he said, standing, his clothing morphing into more familiar Asgardian dark leather and burnished golden metal and hints of green. "Forgive me for injuring you when we first met, Emily. I know it must be difficult for you to believe, but at the time I assumed you were with SHIELD, and you meant to attack me."

The room was dead silent, all eyes fixed on him, but Loki ignored the rest of them and kept his focus on Emily.

"I…uh…no, that's what I thought, actually. I mean…you…you fixed my injuries," she said, far less eloquently than how she'd spoken earlier.

"What I had time for. It was the least I could do. As you can see, I received your message, and it intrigued me. You have managed to impress me, you and this group," he said, now sweeping his eyes around the room, where he saw stupefaction, disbelief, delight, amazement, fear. They should be glad he'd left out the helmet. He let the rest of the armor fade away, back to the black slacks, boots, and Kaisers Orchestra T-shirt. He sat down again, and saw out of the corner of his eye Tanner, Claudia, and Jackie, to his left, scooting as far away from him as they could on the overly crowded couch.

"And…," Emily began, then visibly swallowed, and when she continued, much of her poise had returned, as though she were not at all concerned that Martin Rendahl was really him, "what do you think of our plan to go after SHIELD?"

"I think I find myself in harmony with it."

"But you understand that we don't espouse violence. We want to expose them, not to physically fight them, or get anyone hurt. And we definitely don't want a repeat of what happened in New York."

"Let me assure you – all of you," he said, looking in particular at the two who hadn't voted for contacting him, "that I no longer have any designs on your realm whatsoever. It's a long story, but I was…going through something of a difficult time then. And I did not respect your people. I didn't _know_ your people. That has changed. And while our preferred methods may not always coincide, I am willing to abide by _your_ preferred methods in order to pursue SHIELD and see them removed from any position of power or influence. There is much that you still don't know about them and their World Security Council. You have presented me with a unique opportunity to go after them in this new way. And I've _missed_ having an army," he said with a smirk he couldn't fully hold back.

"Just hold on there. I didn't sign up for anybody's army," Akari said, to various nods and murmurs of agreement. "I don't take orders."

"And I don't intend to try to give them," Loki said quickly. "I want an army _beside_ me. Not _behind_ me. Everything you've said, I agree with. Your people's best interests are not served by SHIELD. Do you know how my first army was defeated? An army I did _not_ choose, but was chosen for me, by the way, by one I had little choice but to cooperate with." He paused, glanced around the room. If anyone had any ideas, they weren't willing to voice them now that they knew who he really was. "The one known as Iron Man flew a nuclear weapon through the portal over New York into the depths of space, and it destroyed virtually all of the Chitauri, along with the support systems that enabled them to survive in your realm. Do you know how the Iron Man obtained such a weapon in the first place?" Curious and disturbed glances were exchanged among Emily's guests; there'd been reports of a missile being flown into the portal, but the word "nuclear" had only been raised in wild conjecture. "SHIELD directed an airplane to drop that nuclear missile on Lower Manhattan. Two, actually," he continued over the group's reactions. "One was stopped before taking off, by a faction of SHIELD which was not entirely in agreement with the decision to irradiate New York City and the surrounding areas. The Iron Man rerouted the second."

"Why should we believe you?" Veronica asked. "In mythology, you liked stirring up trouble, and you weren't exactly the most honest person around."

"Not too far from the truth, Veronica," he said. "And at some point, I shall be happy to discuss your mythology with you, now that I can speak more openly. I suppose I have no means to convince you that I speak the truth, though. I have had two months to investigate you, to make sure that our meeting," he said, nodding to Emily, "was not simply a ploy by SHIELD to entrap me. You have had only a few minutes to speak with the real me. I am placing an immense degree of trust in you by revealing myself. I have no way of knowing for certain that SHIELD hasn't infiltrated this group. So I must ask for the same from you."

"Can you get Thor to join our side?" Jackie asked.

Loki laughed. _Of all the most ridiculous, utterly insane things to suggest. _"No. Thor trusts authority figures," - though perhaps not as blindly as he used to - "and he recognizes SHIELD's leaders as authority figures here on Midgard. And more importantly, he does not trust _me_," he said, his smile turning bitter. "Not anymore." _Perhaps someday,_ some childish little voice inside him said. Of course, he would have to do something to earn that trust first...

"Take time to consider my offer to work with you, if you need it. I merely ask that you continue to refer to me in all communications as Martin Rendahl, or as "SHIELD Is Evil," for my protection and yours. Then, if you decide to move forward, I place only one condition on working alongside you."

"What's that?" Emily asked.

"That we take no action for the next four months."

"Why not?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"My sister-in-law is due to give birth by then, and I gave my word that I would not cause any more trouble during her pregnancy."

Loki sat back with a hint of satisfaction in his smile, watching as his revelations clicked with the group's members, some more quickly than others – Thor _was_ his brother (well, Thor always insisted he was, anyway), and Jane was pregnant. They hadn't made the news public on Midgard yet. If he played this right, he thought, it could go very, very well for him in the end.

The questions started coming, and Loki answered them, almost entirely truthfully. In no time at all, the group had relaxed around him, Michael wasn't glancing at the door, Tanner wasn't trying to lean away from him, Garnet was back perched on the arm of the sofa, though she restrained herself from further groping. Loki carefully surveyed his audience as he spoke; he seemed to be gaining their trust.

He realized then what all of this had been leading to. He was tired, literally, of what his life had been since Odin's reluctant confession years ago. He wanted something else. What, exactly, he couldn't say. There was no going back to what it had been before, that much he knew. But surely there were more possibilities than what his life had been before and what it was now.

_I _will _play this right,_ he thought.

_And who knows what will happen next?_

/

* * *

_That's all she wrote, folks! I hope it gave you a few smiles along the way. You can imagine what you like; I picture a happy ending - Loki plans and schemes with his conspiracy theory buddies, maybe falling for Emily for real along the way or maybe just carrying a little flame for her, making sure nothing they do physically harms anyone, bringing down SHIELD, and giving the utmost respect and consideration to Jane, and ultimately winning back Thor's trust and restoring that relationship and having one heck of time being the best uncle to ever live._

_A clue you might have noticed in Ch. 1 was that Loki went straight for the hidden key - he knew exactly where it was (because Emily had told him)._

_If anyone has some visual artistic ability and could make me an image I could use for this story it would be much appreciated. I'd hoped for a "Welcome" sign with the flowers as in Ch. 1, but couldn't find a freely-available one online, and sadly lack the talent to make one. What you see for the story currently was the best I could do!  
_

_I had a terrible time deciding on what "genre" to choose. I went with "suspense" because it's not clear what Loki's up to in Ch. 1, and "angst" because, well, Loki's in it. "Comedy" frankly never occurred to me. If anyone has suggestions for more appropriate genres I'll definitely consider them. I hesitate over "comedy" though, because that's not evident in Ch. 1, and I prefer to keep the mystery of where the story is headed._

_Finally, background, if you're interested: I had a dream, poorly remembered, that included Loki going to sleep in some woman's bed, kind of mysterious but with the clear sense he wasn't supposed to be there. Then I sort of woke up, then kind of drifted back into sleep, then came the image of someone coming to the door (in the dream it was the resident knocking on her own door for some nonsensical dream-reason, so I had to adjust that part!) and you find out that Loki was in fact not up to rather creepy "mischief" but was in fact known to the resident and permitted to be there. That was pretty much it, from the dream. Loki-obsessed as I am, this is actually the only time he showed up in a dream.  
_


End file.
